Under the Realm of the Beast - Chapter 1: The Switched Groom (2)

“…Hnnngh,” a sob escaped her lips, broken and trembling.

Hearing her cry, Leonard growled low in his throat, his rough hand gripping her chin firmly, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Look at me.”

“……”

“I said, look at me.”

His voice and gaze were raw, overflowing with emotions that had long since spiraled out of control. Fury, desperation, and agony burned in his golden eyes, his emotions laid bare. His movements became even more erratic, each thrust pushing her body further up the bed as though he were trying to etch himself into her completely.

This was never the life she wanted. Not once had she wished for this hellish existence. Leonard Carnies had stolen everything—her family, her dreams, her future.

Through her tear-streaked face, her voice broke into a quiet yet seething whisper:

“…I hate you.”

At Valetta’s words, Leonard’s face twisted in anguish. The relentless sound of their bodies colliding, thud, thud, grew louder as he drove toward his climax.

“Valetta Carnies.”

“I’m not a Carnies… ngh, ah, hic! My name is Valetta Irfman!”

“No, you are a Carnies. The Grand Duchess, Valetta Carnies.”

His voice carried an edge, almost trembling, not from sorrow but from a fury so intense it bordered on despair. His expression was that of a predator delivering a final warning to prey cornered with no escape. Yet, unlike a beast, Leonard teetered on the brink of madness, his control unraveling with every passing second.

“I despise you,” Valetta sobbed bitterly, her voice cracking as tears poured freely.

At that moment, Leonard froze, his movements halting abruptly, and with a guttural groan, he released himself deep inside her. Waves of scalding heat surged into her, unrelenting as his heavy breaths filled the air.

“Haa…”

Leonard let out a sharp, uneven breath. Valetta wiped at her tears with trembling hands, her face wet and streaked. He stared down at her for a long time, watching her cry beneath him. What thoughts churned behind his piercing gaze, she couldn’t tell. And truthfully, she didn’t care. Whatever emotions he harbored were meaningless to her now.

With clenched teeth, Leonard finally pulled himself out of her. As he withdrew, white fluid spilled out, trailing down between her legs. His jaw tightened as his fury twisted his features into a hard mask. Without a word, he stepped off the bed, his movements stiff and deliberate. He grabbed the clothes he had discarded earlier, hastily pulling them on before storming out of the room.

Bang!

The door slammed shut behind him with such force that the air seemed to reverberate. The sound of Leonard barking orders to the maids echoed down the hallway.

“Don’t give her so much as a scrap of cloth, let alone proper clothing. She doesn’t need it.”

Valetta’s face went pale as his words reached her ears.

“The Grand Duchess is not to leave this room. If it happens again…”

His voice dropped, but the menace in his tone was unmistakable.

“…know that I’ll personally sever every one of your necks.”

Hearing his final, chilling threat, Valetta pulled the blankets over her head, trembling as she curled into herself. Tears streamed down her face, and one thought burned fiercely in her mind.

She truly, utterly hated Leonard Carnies.

* * *

It was a damp May, soaked with spring rain.

Valetta, still groggy, pulled the blanket up over her head. From outside, she could hear Irmina’s shrill voice echoing through the door. Her cousin Irmina had been in a frenzy for a full week over the news that the Empire’s hero would be attending the upcoming spring festival.

“Oh, please. Irmina…”

Valetta, who was not a morning person, found the noise unbearable so early in the day.

“Hey, Valetta! Get up!”

The storage room door where Valetta stayed shook loudly. She tried her best to ignore Irmina’s voice, but the screechy persistence made it impossible.

“I said, get up! It’s already past 8 o’clock. How long are you planning to sleep, you lazy bum?”

I stayed up until 4 a.m. reading books last night, Valetta thought.

But her voice, muffled by the blanket, didn’t reach outside. When Irmina began aggressively jiggling the doorknob, Valetta had no choice but to drag herself up reluctantly.

When she opened the door, weakly and half-asleep, Irmina stood there, decked out in frilly lace. With a sharp tone, Irmina demanded, “Are you going to the ball tonight?”

“I was invited, so I suppose I have to,” Valetta replied.

Irmina’s eyes flashed with irritation. Unlike Irmina, who was obsessed with appearances, Valetta wasn’t particularly interested in her looks. In fact, aside from her status as the daughter of a count, there wasn’t much about Irmina that stood out.

Valetta, on the other hand, had lived as a guest in Irmina’s household for ten years now, rarely stepping outside, and yet she was famous for her beauty.

Her golden hair was so perfect that no one in the area could match it. Her pearlescent, flawless white skin bore not a single blemish. She had a slender waist as elegant as a painting, and her deep, ocean-blue eyes sparkled like precious gems.

Even if Valetta wore the most rustic dress imaginable, she would inevitably become the center of attention. People often said, “Even if it’s a sack, once Valetta Irfmann wears it, it’ll become the next trend.” She wasn’t just beautiful; she was utterly captivating.

Though she hated to admit it, even Irmina had to acknowledge that Valetta had an inexplicable charm that drew people to her. And tonight’s ball would likely be no different.

“Do you really have to go?”

“It’s an invitation from the imperial family. How could I possibly refuse?” Valetta replied, her voice drowsy.

Irmina’s lips twisted into a petulant pout at the thought of Valetta attending the ball with her.

This year’s Goddess Festival Ball would be graced by none other than Grand Duke Leonard Carnies, a relative of the emperor and a hero of the empire. He was the lord of the vast northern territories, the savior of the empire from the wicked dragon, and, to top it all off, a man of unparalleled beauty. Grand Duke Carnies was, without question, the most perfect man alive.

Having seen him a few times as a child, Irmina was adamantly opposed to Valetta attending this time. Whenever Valetta appeared, the attention of all the men, regardless of the occasion, inevitably shifted toward her. And to make matters worse, Valetta and the Grand Duke weren’t just casual acquaintances.

“You’re not feeling well anyway. Why don’t you just stay home?”

Since when did you ever care about my health? Valetta barely suppressed a laugh.

“You don’t even have a proper dress.”

“Of course I do. Her Majesty the Empress sent me a lace-adorned dress,” Valetta said matter-of-factly.

Irmina’s cheeks twitched with irritation. Valetta, on the other hand, had no desire to prolong this conversation.

Not that she particularly wanted to attend the ball, either. Unlike Irmina, who seemed desperate to deepen her connection with Grand Duke Carnies, the mere thought of running into him made Valetta’s stomach churn. If anything, it felt nauseating.

Still, she had already declined three invitations to the Empress’s tea parties, and she knew she couldn’t turn down this ball as well.

If I’d known it would come to this, I should’ve just gone to the tea parties earlier.

Valetta understood all too well that the Empress’s kindness stemmed from pity over her being a lone survivor of her family. This made Valetta reluctant to accept the invitations in the first place.

I’ll just make a brief appearance and leave right away, she resolved.

Waving a hand dismissively to shoo the fuming Irmina out of her room, Valetta threw herself back onto the bed. Whatever ball awaited her that evening, sleep was far more important to her at the moment.

* * *

Valetta’s father and Irmina’s mother were siblings, making Valetta and Irmina first cousins.

However, there was a subtle but undeniable gap in their social standing. While both families held the rank of count, Valetta’s father, Count Irfmann, had no inheritance to speak of, making him a noble in name only. In contrast, Irmina’s father, Count Dampierre, possessed an enormous inherited fortune.

As a result, after Valetta’s father passed away, she was forced to live as a dependent in Irmina’s household, where she had to endure Irmina’s constant spite. She couldn’t complain about being relegated to live in a converted storage room with little sunlight, nor about being expected to do chores like a servant. She accepted it all without protest. But today, Irmina had gone too far.

“This is…”

Valetta bit her lip as she realized Irmina had hidden the dress the Empress had sent her. It must have been Laura, the maid, who was ordered to take it. Irmina wouldn’t have gone so far as to rummage through the storage room herself to remove the dress.

The real issue wasn’t even the missing dress. It was that Irmina’s parents had left for the ball an hour earlier than scheduled, taking the carriage with them. With no carriage left at the house, how was Valetta supposed to get to the ball at all?

“If I miss this one too, it’ll be a real disaster…”

Sighing, Valetta decided to head to Irmina’s room, though she had no real hope of finding the dress there.

Irmina’s dressing room was always locked, ensuring Valetta couldn’t access anything except the dresses left in her own wardrobe. Unsurprisingly, Irmina had only left behind outdated, unfashionable dresses in an apparent attempt to mock her.

With no other options, Valetta reluctantly put on one of the dresses Irmina had discarded. Since it was tailored for Irmina’s frame, the chest was tight, and the waist was loose, but it was passable. After cinching the waist with a ribbon to make it fit better, Valetta glanced at herself in the mirror.

“The hair’s the real problem…”

There wasn’t enough time to use hot irons to style her hair. Besides, asking the maids for help would likely result in “accidental” burns, so Valetta decided to decorate her long hair with flowers from a vase instead.

Satisfied with her makeshift look, she stepped out into the hallway.

“Miss, where do you think you’re going?”

Laura, the maid, appeared in the corridor, glaring at her with wide, accusing eyes.

“To the ball, of course,” Valetta replied calmly.

“You’re late. Madam and Miss Irmina already left ahead of you. There’s no carriage left. How do you plan on getting there?”

“That’s the dilemma.”

Laura smirked at Valetta’s response, a faint flicker of insolence crossing her expression. Though Valetta relied on the Dampierre household, her noble status as a guest of the family should have afforded her a measure of respect. Laura’s attitude was nothing short of audacious.

“Laura, go to the street and rent a carriage,” Valetta ordered.

“And do you even have the money to rent one?” Laura retorted, her voice laced with mockery.

“Charge it to my uncle,” Valetta replied evenly.

Laura let out an exaggerated sigh as if the very idea was absurd. “Miss, you must not understand how things work around here—”

“Listen carefully, Laura,” Valetta interrupted, her tone sharp. “I was invited to the ball by Her Majesty the Empress herself. If I don’t attend because of something as trivial as lacking a carriage, it will bring shame not just on me but on the entire Dampierre household. Should Count Dampierre’s reputation be tarnished, it would be because you failed to secure a carriage. Now, go.”

Her commanding words left no room for argument. With a displeased pout, Laura finally left the house, heading to the streets to find a carriage.

Valetta pulled out an old pocket watch and checked the time. She might arrive at the ball just a bit too late. Shortly after, Laura returned, sweating profusely, with a shabby rented carriage in tow.

“You’ve done well,” Valetta said in her typically dry tone, offering a curt acknowledgment.

Without further delay, she climbed into the cheap carriage and directed the driver toward the palace. Among all the nobles invited to the ball, she was certain to be the only one arriving in such an undignified vehicle. If only she had accepted the Empress’s earlier invitations, she wouldn’t have to endure this ordeal today.

Why did it have to be today…?

Her thoughts circled back to the man she least wanted to encounter: Leonard Carnies. The very thought of seeing him made her feel queasy. She wasn’t confident she could face him without the bile rising in her throat. Her reluctance to attend the ball stemmed largely from the possibility of running into him.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…

That day, much like today, it had rained. Leonard had brought back Friedrich’s belongings—mementos of a life cut short—but couldn’t bring himself to look Valetta in the eye.

Four years ago, that campaign had been a disaster, the worst in recent history. Friedrich had died saving Leonard, and even his body hadn’t been recovered. All Leonard had returned with was a crushing guilt and an unbearable sense of remorse directed at Valetta.

Why… Why only you? Why not Friedrich?

Valetta’s face contorted with pain at the memory. She had wanted to believe Leonard was making some cruel joke. The sound of the rain and the cold sensation of raindrops on her skin had felt distant and unreal.

Tell me! Where is Friedrich?!

Her scream from that day echoed in her mind. She remembered the feeling of her throat tearing, the metallic taste of blood. Or perhaps the blood she had smelled that day wasn’t hers—it had been Leonard’s. The stench of blood clinging to him felt like it belonged to her brother. The grief was too much to bear, ripping her heart to shreds until it felt as though the sky itself had collapsed on her.

If it weren’t for you… He died because of you…

According to his comrades, Friedrich had died protecting Leonard. To Leonard, Friedrich was more than a friend; he was like a brother. But to Valetta, Friedrich was her entire world—the only family she had left under the sky.

Having lost her parents at a young age, Valetta had seen Friedrich as more than a brother. He was her parent, her friend, her protector, and her teacher. Though they were only four years apart, the bond between them was extraordinary.

That was why Valetta couldn’t forgive Leonard for surviving.

More than that, Friedrich hadn’t even wanted to join that campaign.

He said he didn’t want to go…

Friedrich had insisted something felt off about the expedition and had refused to participate. But Leonard had persuaded him—no, forced him—to go. How could Friedrich have refused the heartfelt plea of his closest friend and comrade?

You dragged him into it. You’re the reason he died. It’s your fault!

I hate you, Leonard.

I wish you had died instead.

* * *